


bed of thorns

by jukain



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Alternate Universe - Western, F/M, Female Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), wol is a prostitute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-25
Updated: 2020-07-25
Packaged: 2021-03-06 00:42:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 937
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25514464
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jukain/pseuds/jukain
Summary: assuming she is rabbit-hearted is a mistake most make. good thing he isn't most.happy cowboy day i was inspired by crystalsexarch and wrote this in one sitting
Relationships: G'raha Tia | Crystal Exarch & Warrior of Light, G'raha Tia | Crystal Exarch/Warrior of Light
Comments: 2
Kudos: 21





	bed of thorns

there’s plentiful buzz on the western front in regards to the rising stone’s own harlot. the saloon itself takes pride in its standards; not tolerating the belligerent attitudes or haughty drunks picking into business they had no right to without proper payment, and their resident prostitute is no different. quality came with a price.

this is where she takes the stage: a ripe, full blossom of a woman with dark skin and cherry-red eyes too bright for their own good. she sways about the rising stones in a low-cut dress, the swell of her breasts accentuated _just so_ within a soft corset of the deepest hues, the manner of which inevitably draws the wandering eyes of most men to her.

they call her bunny, their sweet rabbit, in part to the way her flowing hair ribbon stands in a cute mockery of the animal’s ears.

anyone who works at the rising stones, however, knowing bunny beyond the reputation of her heated and saccharine encounters, is well aware that she is more akin to a jackal than the timid rodent of her namesake.

the bartender in particular, a pale-haired man not unlike a brother to the infamous woman, has a habit of rolling his eyes when these vermin of men stray too close to her den. always bursting with bravado in their perversion, too handsy and all too willing to pay for the experience if only for the way bunny lightly caresses their jaw with her fingertips, catches their lower lip with her nails. she is skilled at her art in all of its forms, from seduction to explicit pleasure, and word of mouth between former clients is more than enough to keep her pockets lined.

there are rumors of a paramour to the rabbit, and the common response is scoffing of patrons and strangers alike-- who in their right mind would share their heart, their body, with a whore? to a woman who lives to feed the desires of others for coin, folding easily under broad or lithe hands. no true man or woman of any esteem would so willingly share their partner with countless rabble.

that all said, in truth, the answer is far more interesting than its fiction.

“you’ll get yourself killed one of these days,” bunny berates as she dresses the wounds of a remarkably unassuming man with messed hair the color of sunset. “a complete idiot of a man with a head too bloated with delusions of grandeur. a mighty fine gravestone that’ll make when you finally croak.”

“my head is perfectly normal in size, i assure you!” he responds sharply, then promptly yelps when bunny yanks a wrapped bandage tight around his bicep.

“i mean it, raha!” she leans in close to glare at him directly, his teal eyes narrowing at her red. “at least get some goddamn help the next time you go ‘venturing into some wreck! if i have to drag your sorry ass up here _one more time_ \--”

she goes quiet when he knocks his forehead against hers. a unique gesture of affection, soft and wordless, and it gets her every time.

“i’m sorry i worried you, truly,” raha says gently, “i got in over my head. it won’t happen again.”

fire reignites in bunny’s eyes and he knows a guillotine when he sees it.

“it sure as hell won’t, since i’ll be comin’ with you.”

raha nearly falls off her bed when he recoils in shock at her declaration, eyes wide and mouth slack. the sheer determination in her expression is enough to render him momentarily speechless. breathless by its intensity.

“you-- i can’t ask you to do that!”

“good thing you aren’t. i’m _tellin’_ you that i’m coming along. you could use my skills and i could use a change of scenery. i’m startin’ to grow roots here.” bunny rises to her feet and smooths out the folds of her dress. raha blinks rapidly up at her and she levels him a look.

“much as i like the money, i’ve grown terribly bored here. filia will understand my absence. if anything it’ll garner more interest for my services at my return, and idle gossip tends to be fantastic for business.”

raha huffs out a laugh and runs a hand down his face, immediately cringing at the surge of pain lancing through his arm at the action.

“well, i can’t rightfully deny you. you know that.” his voice is low, secret in a way that only ever happens between the two of them. “i’d love nothing more than to have you with me.”

“then it’s settled!” bunny all but shouts with a sarcastic clap of her hands. “just need to settle some things with thancred, and i’ll have my things ready by the morrow for us to head on out.”

“the fact that you’ve managed to hide so much in plain sight continues to amaze me... do i even want to know where you stole away your firearms?” raha watches her pace about the room and nearly tear various drawers out of their holding. with methodical precision, knives of differing build and purpose are filtered through her hands and tossed unceremoniously onto the bed next to him. after a moment they begin to clank together in a pile.

“i have to keep my secrets secret, silly man. i am _very good_ at what i do, after all.”

she turns to him, brandishing a hunting knife with practiced ease, and delicately runs her fingertip along its sharp edge. in that stance is a legend in the making, and raha is excited beyond measure to be a part of it.


End file.
